The Agents Among Us
by Nitesh
Summary: Two figures unjustly hang over the town. One is left to ponder their deaths through his own guilt. Hale's POV.


**AN: Horray, a first person for once! Well, my school just finished putting on _The Crucible_ and I fell in love with the character of Hale.**

**Enjoy.**

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"You are God's instrument, put in our hands to discover the devil's agents among us..."_ --Mr. Hale 

**The Agents Among Us**

I don't know what I have anymore. I have seen the blood of the innocent lamb run out as the beasts of suspicion and vicious contempt devour it. It hurts me... it _kills_ me to know that I have laid a hand in the breeding of this mad, murderous beast that turns on it's master, wild, uncontrolled, out of hand.

John Proctor hangs today.

Over the town and placed on a hill his body's hung, his neck twisted. All shudder to go past with a certain one of God's angels at his elbow, the bent form of the once golden Rebecca Nurse. How like a marvel it is, that such goodness, such daring and kindhearted beauty can be stamped out with so little effort. I almost believed for a moment that as the hangman lay the noose over her neck that she would lift her age-weary head to the sky, and wings would sprout from her back, and the light, the beautiful, glorified Light, would call her up and bring her to the sky...!

But no. No. She instead raised her face up, and, staring at the somber crowd before her with half lidded eyes that brimmed with a weighty sadness, spoke in a measured tone, "God have mercy on this wild town of Salem. God bring his mercy on you."

Proctor said nothing. Only the tear that trailed down his cheek betrayed his stone face, mirroring his wife's in the jail. He did not acknowledge it.

...I must admit, I did not watch. I turned away as the hangman went to the lever, his feet beating on the wood like the Devil's drums. Judge Hawthorne called to me, though I acted as if I did not hear him. I instead strode back down the hill, but I knew when their spirits had left them. There was no catcalling, no jeering, bloody hunger of the crowds this time when the ropes dropped. Instead a steady silent descended, like a sudden cold that had fallen upon them.

The girls, however, said nothing. Absent Mercy Lewis and Abigail Williams, of course. Leaderless they had fallen, and all around them knew it.

Now I stand on this hill alone. It did not take long for it to empty of people, many sobbing, others wide-eyed and deeply shaken. Only now are they hurt? Only now are they understanding of God's greatest gift upon the earth? It seems so. I had walked by them all, and not a one looked gleeful.

Judge Danforth had hesitated before approaching me as I passed, and only muttered a "Mister Hale...", a comment that meant nothing and therefore warranted nothing in return. I know he will ask me that I return to Beverly soon enough. I am not sure if I would comply.

...They just... left them here. The hangman simply left them as if they meant nothing. He certainly was not worth the touch of their bodies. They are simply hanging, hanging here in the cold wind that carries their souls away.

I don't want to take them down myself. But I have to. It is my duty to them, the least I can do when I should have done so much more... this is evident. Better that they host the bloody filth of my hands then endure the chill of the wilds and fall prey to any passing beast. I cross myself without thinking and scramble awkwardly up onto the platform.

I gasp as suddenly I am before them, and instantly feel an iron hand take hold of my heart and choke it with guilt. Pale now are their once rosy faces. Pale and cold, like a candle which had just been blown out, and it's wax had not yet settled.

I had seen death before, so many times, but now...

I was once a man of faith, great faith. I know that I am young. But now I am only young physically, and even then barely. These months in Salem have aged me so that my hair is turning a shade of white, and my eyes are tired and dull. My bright confidence quivered and died when the first few where called out. I was not ready. I was not prepared.

There are none more guilty then I, I think.

"A fire, a fire is burning," Proctor had said. "Them that quail to bring men our of ignorance, as I have quailed, and as you quail now when you known in all your black hearts that this be fraud - God damns our kind especially, and we will burn, we will burn together!"

Aye, Proctor. I believe... that your words be the truth. I believe you. I wish I could have made them believe you. I am the Devil's man now, stained with the blood and filth of the vengeance of Salem. I will burn for it. I know I will. And now... I pray that you will not see the same.

"God bring his mercy on you," had said Rebecca. I am not sure that I deserve such a pardon.

And I reach for her, ready to bear her down.

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